Wed Nov 22 Manchester Monarchs

Day 18 : Cowboy

Look, sorry our other boys didn't make an appearance, but i have a love for cowboy killer that must be fulfilled.

i haven't drawn a horse in yeeeeeeears XD I usually draw him with a truck instead.

if this your jam, check out Reposed Rebellions, or even the RR Age Study over on my sketch account. (It not done, but i had to pause for this challenge. once i'm back to working on that, watch for ages 17 and up)

Original Prompt list by gratefulcheeses

Gunpowder, Gelatin; Dynamite with a Laser Beam

Chapters: 1/6 Fandom: One Piece (Anime & Manga) Rating: Mature Eustass "Captain" Kidd / "Massacre Soldier" Killer Mob / Hitokiri Kamazo (aftermath of)

AKA: 8 days to Rally [Redux]

Summary:

Only one things changes. It shouldn't mean much, in the grand scale of things. One chromosome shifted. The story remains the same, the players unchanging in their roles. In every incarnation, Killer is Kidd's partner, and nothing will change that.

The story was already written. Their plight always set to follow this path. Nothing changes. Except...

It's home... or the husk of home at least.

Their personal effects have been stripped out, the machinery and appliances gone. Nothing but bare wood and cabinetry.

They'd gone to find clothes for Killer first, only to find nothing at all. Her quarter's were completely bare. Her clothes, her masks, her knives. The mattress, the drapes from over the windows, the bottles of lotions and conditioners she hoarded in the privacy of her own room. Her drum kit, her music dials, her cook books, her collection of miniature little butterflies and wolverines - started by a tiny Kidd almost two decades ago.

Everything. All gone.

warnings under cut

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Rape/Non-Con (aftermath) Additional Tags:

always a woman!"Massacre Soldier" Killer

Wano Arc (One Piece)

Killer injured from the fight with Zoro

author subscribes to fancanon:, Kamazo was an oiran for Orochi when he wasn't being used as an assassin based on his obi

discussions of previous injuries

very hurt!Killer

wearing each other's clothes

SMILE Fruit

Post Udon Prison

Rape Aftermath Implied/Referenced Underage Sex (later chapters) Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution (later chapters

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

warnings expanded upon in notes in the story start notes ->click on them to expand for more details

17. Sacrifice

Kidd - 18 | Killer - 22 | Heat - 23

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Food Issues coming up again

yeah, all these assholes had some kind of eating disorder at one point

vague references to starvation, overeating, and eating rotten food

Killer struggles to throw rotten food out

Kidd does too but actually manages to go through with it

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

Kidd had slept though breakfast - which was not unusual for him - and had wandered down to the galley to pilfer a snack as Pomp & UK cleaned up after the meal. And if Killer was not to busy prepping for lunch, to get the man to make him something personally.

And he planned it perfectly it seemed, because Killer was indeed standing causally at the kitchen counter. He had his notebook out; Killer had his own means of how his thought a kitchen should be run, but so far there's been no real complaints and everyone been well fed. Killer's seasoning work was hit or miss, seeing as he wanted to try every mix or herb or spice with very little experience to back it up.

But it had flavour, and the flavour wasn't penicillin.

At the moment, Killer was repeatedly tapping the pen against the counter in his right, studying something in his left.

"What's up?"

"Its gone bad..."

Kidd paused, looking at his first mate in confusion. He thought Killer was doing meal planning, or inventory or something. That 'gone bad' was a problem, but Killer's voice was distant and almost a little lost.

"How bad?"

Killer's head turned slightly, and he lifted his hand up enough for Kidd to see he was holding a jar of something. He was unreadable behind the mask for most, but Kidd could tell it was worse then the normal stoicism he like to pretend he had once it was on... This was a different quiet - like he was stuck.

Kidd came over to peer into the jar, Killer tilted it to him to see. It was a jar of fruit preserves, still about a third full. The jam itself looked fine, but the sides had begun to grow over with soft wispy mold.

"Do we have more?"

"Different fruit, but yeah."

"The other one still good?"

"Still sealed, so it should be fine."

Kidd made an executive decision then, and took the jar and table knife from Killer.

Killer handed both other with no hesitation.

Kidd left the galley.

Every part of him was trying to get him to turn back around - they could spoon out the bottom still, that was at least four more sandwiches at the bottom. Six if they were for some of the smaller members of the crew. And they had a big crew right now - nearly thirty strong and almost all of them having run with at least one of the four commanders back on the island.

Thirty mouths, at least three times a day. Figuring in the night squad, Killer was feeding a platoon of people four times a day, a meal of some kind on the table every 6 hours. UK had been stepping up and assisting him so the man didn't burn out, familiar enough with Killer to navigate his idiosyncrasies without stepping on any toes. And House, Mosh, Pomp, and Disc J had stepped up from the other gangs to form the Punks' mess hall squad. But it was still thirty people.

It didn't matter how well stocked they were, there was always that fear that the next time they turned around, the pantry would be empty. They'd all grown up with it, all of them living through days of not being sure where the next meal was coming from. Years of getting their hands on just enough food to make it to the next day but never enough to stop feeling hungry.

Kidd contemplated the jar again once he stepped out on deck, an uncertain shadow named Killer trailing behind him. They'd all made themselves to sick in those early days, dropping obscene amounts of money at taverns in those first few ports. They had no idea what shit was worth once off the island, nor had they cared, eating themselves well past the point of sick. It had taken them all the way to Reverse Mountain to finally start to get a handle on things and Heat had worked with Killer, the two making remarkable progress getting everyone on responsible eating habitats.

Still didn't mean there wasn't severe hang ups lurking under the surface.

Heat had been making his way the crow's nest for his shift, and paused to watch the two of them. Watched the jittery way Killer followed. Watched the jar in Captain's hand.

Kidd stood at the railing, touching the 'good' jam at the bottom with the table knife. Six people! his head was screaming, and he was surprised how hard to was to finally stir it up, loosening the jam and mold both, mixing them. Inseparable. Before he could think about it, he upended the glass, shaking it until the jam fell loose and into the sea.

He could feel Killer tensing up even without looking at him. He did met Heat's gaze though, the man doing his best to look nonchalant to hid his interest.

He continued to hold Heat's gaze as he handed the empty jar back to Killer. "We don't do that no more. As long as I'm Captain, we will never go back to that."

He looked at Killer then, "If in doubt, throw it out. You don't serve rotten food to my crew," His voice softened, "and you don't eat anything that's gone off ever again. You hear me?"

"Aye Captain." Killer murmured, taking the jar, shoulder's slumping as he lost tension; The responsibility of the choice taken from him.

6. Lipstick

Kidd - 11 | Killer - 15 | Victoria - 15 almost 16

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Killer in dresses and makeup

Teenagers doing teenager things

Victoria is a mill girl

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

Victoria had been a mill girl since she was 10, a doffer for the older women in the textile mill, and earning herself a bed at the Women's Boarding House, tucked away on the city side of the mill complex, blocking the city's view of the textile manufacturing building and the waste it dumped freely out into the Heaps. She was well aware of the good fortune she'd fallen into, having seen the conditions other girls and boys her age outside of the walls lived in. She was almost 16 now, and still sleeping in the same bed night after night.

The years of being underpaid and overworked left her with a roof over her head, three square meals a day, and never having to worry about the things that go bump in the night.

Never had to worry about the unwanted attention of the older boys as not a one of them yet able to sneak past the Widow Matron of her building.

 That wasn't to say Victoria had not been sneaking a certain younger boy in for a couple of years now.

Three years actually - right under the nose of the adults - with the exception of one of the nurses who'd taught Victoria herself the tricks on a night the young woman preferred not to remember. It was a good thing Killer made a convincing girl, prettier hair than her own, and a wore her dresses and heels as naturally as she did. She just had to make sure he was out by curfew or someone was bound to notice the extra girl at head count.

Once, on one of her free weekends, her dress had torn along the back when it got caught on a nail or something. Instead of going home - and possibly be misunderstood as forfeiting her remaining free time - she'd convinced Killer (and Kidd because she'd forgotten to lock the door) to follow her into a shop's bathroom and put her dress on so she could sew it back up as properly as one could on the fly.

While using him as a dress form - she wasn't particular well devolved and he was about as wide chested as she was and it fit him well enough for the task - Kidd had asked the two if that meant Killer was a girl.

Killer had looked upset, it was too close to the ugly things the other boys called him and while she knew Kidd didn't know any better, it was still bordering on hurtful.

"What's wrong with being a girl?" she had demanded of him. Kidd looked surprised, before slouching against the main door, looking properly told off, muttering "Nuthin'."

With a frown, she'd turned back to her stitching, when Killer spoke up, his voice timid in a way she wasn't used to, "Victoria wears pants most of the time, does that make her a boy?" he asked Kidd.

"…no?"

"You're wearing one of her old shirts right now - does that made you a girl?"

The boy shook his head no.

"It's just clothes and stuff."

"Okay." Kidd agreed, sounding like right now he just want the conversation to end.

But Victoria had looked at Killer in her favorite yellow dress - it was the wrong colour for him, but made a cute silhouette.

She'd brought him an older blue one of hers a few weeks later. They'd snuck into the bathroom again, and she'd dressed him up and it looked so much better than the yellow one had.

And then they'd waltzed right in though the front doors of her boarding house, only barely keeping composed long enough to shut themselves away in her currently empty dorm room before they were laughing wildly, clutching at each other to keep from falling over.

"I can't believe that worked!" Killer was cackling, and neither could Victoria, and the thrill of getting such a big one over on the Widow Matron was a high she'd not been expecting.

Most of the time, Victoria was more than happy to hang out with both of the boys, but there was something exhilarating in sneaking Killer away from both his childminder duties and past the women of the boarding house. She was pretty sure some of the other girls had suspected something was up seeing as Killer - who had the audacity to introduce himself as Killer still - could never be found at meals or at bed check.

So far though, the only thing anyone had actually said was when Nicolette had still been in the room getting ready when Victoria and Killer slipped in one afternoon. Killer had quickly looked away from the half-dressed woman, blushing, and Victoria had felt a little offended he'd never reacted to her that way. Nicolette had frowned at the interruption but otherwise ignored them, at least until she was putting her things away. She held a little tube up thoughtfully, before tossing it to Victoria. Even surprised, she'd caught it with ease, looking confused.

"Killer'd look good in purple, I think." was all Nicolette said, before heading out for her own night on the town.

It was a tube of lipstick. Victoria and Killer looked at it thoughtfully.

Nicolette was right. Killer did look good in purple. It was a soft lilac colour that worked well with his straw yellow hair and ice blue eyes. Victoria found she liked painting him up in it, some times adding a touch of purple powder that she'd later pick up to the creases of his eyelids.

Sometimes, after he was all dolled up, they'd hit the town together. Other days they spend in her dorm room. "Just don't mess up your lipstick" was her only rule.

And then he'd either escort her back to the doors just before 10, or would be sneaking out the back, headed back to the Heaps. He had a small collection of makeup that was just his that he hid in one of his caches, along with the dress. The other clothes he would bring back to Kidd, who was more than happy to wear even the ugliest prints if not for anything more than the fact they'd never belonged to anyone else before him.

Kidd would watch him those nights, carefully washing the makeup off under the flickering of lamp light.

"You don't have to wash it off…" Kidd had said finally, "If you don't want to. I don't care if you like to look pretty."

Killer had smiled up at him, head tilted so his bangs fell away from his face for once, and he studied his younger friend, "You think I look pretty?"

Hello there! Hope you guys are having a great time!

Any fics that you know of a power imbalance between the two since Aziraphale is much more powerful than Crowley?

Any fics, doesn't matter for rating and whatnot!

Hi! The idea of one being more powerful than the other is only a fanon trope. So here, have a couple of fics in which Aziraphale is more powerful and a couple in which Crowley is more powerful...

Incongruous States of Being by ZehWulf (T)

“Who would win: Aziraphale or Crowley.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale startles. “Well—such a question. It’s not as though either of us has engaged in so much as fisticuffs in ages, and one does need to keep up practice with these sorts of things.” His fretting dies abruptly when Crowley cuts over him clearly, baldly: “Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale’s mouth clicks shut, and he goes so still that the group is forcibly reminded that ethereal beings don’t technically need to breathe, have a heartbeat, or even metabolize energy to exist. Beside him, Crowley’s stiffened up and his lips pull back from his teeth in a toe-curling wince.

I’ll think of you every step of the way by Mekachu04 (T)

Aziraphale worked very hard at being soft. He's been working very hard for more than 6000 years to be soft, and one demon is trying his patience on the matter, leading him on a smiting spree in hell.

aka - exploring my personal headcanon's of our fav duo's pasts, set sometime after the series ends. Tags will be expanded reflecting each new chapter to minimize spoilers. i'm not very nice to either of of our beloveds in this, but it all works out in the end.

Being Gentle by Sodium_Azide (M)

Principalities are built for war. Only for war. However, as bewildering as it may be, on Earth sometimes peace breaks out.

He felt like a siege catapult attempting to skip pebbles on a pond.

Aziraphale, a very gentle angel created to defend Eden against all of the horrible might of Hell, does his very best to be soft.

Starstruck by Atalan (T)

Aziraphale wasn't one of the angels tasked with creation. He wasn't ever expected to create anything new, but as it happened, he already had, though no-one (including him) realised it.

He had, completely on his own and with very little fuss, invented being desperately, hopelessly in love with someone who didn't even know his name.

AU. Aziraphale gets a shock when he runs into the Archangel Raphael in the Garden, especially since he's calling himself "Crowley" and pretending to be just any old ordinary angel. Meanwhile Crowley just wants someone to appreciate him for himself without all the convoluted power games of Heaven...

Truth Serum, Kidnapping, and a Garden! Oh My! by animefan021513 (T)

Aziraphale is a bit shaken by the place that Crowley created when he stopped time. So, logically, he gives Crowley a truth serum specially made for beings like him and Crowley to draw the truth out about that place. Soon, they find out that Gabriel is kidnapped by demons and needs their help. What truths will be revealed about Crowley? Who was he before he fell? What will his memories reveal when TESTED for REDEMPTION!? What will Aziraphale find out about some things he mysteriously doesn't remember? Will this whole thing affect their friendship? Why is Gabriel being nice now? READ AND FIND OUT! :) (Based mainly on the show)

The Truth Remains by WanderingAlice (M)

Raphael had been the third angel ever created, and he’d raised himself first with Michael’s clumsy help. Then he’d turned around and raised three more siblings, and loved them all so fiercely it hurt. He'd loved Aziraphale too, more than either of them really knew.

And then, he fell. He lost everything. The bond he held with his siblings was ripped away, leaving an aching, empty void. And while he still has Aziraphale, the angel doesn't recognize the archangel who taught him how to care about the Earth. And Crowley refuses to tell him who he was, or how Aziraphale's voice is the one thing that can soothe the ache in his soul that wants, so badly, to feel a connection again.

A story through the ages as an angel and a demon come to terms with their shared past.

- Mod D

“why would you write fics for small, unpopular fandoms? you’re not gonna reach that many hits in fandoms not many people know about” ?? because I’m not writing fics for hits or kudos, I’m writing them for me because these characters are my blorbos and I have so many ideas, so much thoughts about them that my brain might explode if I don’t write them out.

So life is a bit up and down right now, so I'm probably going to be taking a bit of a hiatus again at least as far as polishing up or finishing anything

Im going to still try and keep the sketches going on @mekachuo4 and sharing and rebloging other one piece art and general silliness over on @soyala04

Take care y'all and ill be back soon, dont worry =^.^=

sleepy burrito killer all coloured. he would very much like to go back to bed now, okay?

Kidd - 4 | Killer - 8

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Dialogue only

Original Characters

Companion to Love Language

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

He'll be five - we should throw him a party.

He'll be five - he wouldn't remember a party.

He will. Cook can bring her boys, and your niece can come.

I do not understand this need of yours to have hundreds of children underfoot.

....

Fine, fine. It's a Tuesday, it'll be slow anyway. We'll close the tavern and throw a party for a five year old.

Oh! I love you so.

You better.

....

What about that little blonde fucker?

Who?

The stabby kid, the dock boys' shadow.

Oh, Killer!

... I shouldn't have expected anything else.

I didn't think you liked him.

I guess I should be happy he bit me instead of stabbing me like he did Anndra.

You scared him!

I though the stevedore was getting handsy with him! I didn't know the bastard was just blackout drunk.

....

What?

I didn't know that was what you were upset about. It's just... very sweet of you.

I just don't want that shit going down in my home. They wanna turn tricks, they can go to the red light like everyone else. Stabby fuck knows that and that's why I let him stay.

My brave knight off to rescue damsels and urchins alike.

Stop.

... Do you think Killer would want to hang out with a bunch of preschoolers?

I think that boy would follow anyone who gave him a soft look into a back alley.

Eustass!

Sorry. I'm.. I'm sorry.

Ph! Don't make me think about such things - I'm never going to let him leave next time if you say things like that.

We can't afford that.

We could...

We already pay cook twice her worth to feed her boys.

Don't word it like that!

What?

Twice her worth - Twice her WORTH - gah. Its gross. Don't say it like that.

We do though. You figure in the free meals and board, she makes more than I do at the end of the day.

Maybe we could hire Killer to work with her.

We can't afford that.

.. I know....

....

...What do you have there?

My mom made it for me when I was little - I found it with her things last summer when...

.. Oh sweetheart...

Its supposed to be Moccus; He was mom's favouite old God. The fierce defender.

Wish we knew she had it a few years ago - it would have been a nice christening gift.

You knew what she was like....

Still.

... Maybe.

Hmm?

... It's bad luck to visit someone without a gift.

... I'm not following.

Stabby boy. Killer. He wont come without a gift. Especially a party. And I can't exactly demand a street kid buy my son a toy.

What if he takes it and runs?

Do you think he would?

...No.

If he did... if he did, I would be sad but... I don't think I'd be mad. He could probably use a fierce defender patron.

Chapters: 3/8 Fandom: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Adam Young (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley & Adam Young (Good Omens), Crowley & Adam Young (Good Omens), The Them - Relationship Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Hastur (Good Omens), Disposable Demon (Good Omens), Satan | Lucifer (Good Omens), Beelzebub (Good Omens), Adam Young (Good Omens), Wensleydale (Good Omens), Brian (Good Omens), Pepper (Good Omens) Additional Tags: No beta we fall like Crowley, is it still 'headcanon' if you're discussing religion?, feature author's own personal outlook on religion, specifically Hell and God's relationship to it, Minor Character Death, Paul Adeyefa's character is named Legion in here, discussion of past mutilations, Aziraphale was a cherubim, Aziraphale was a warrior, Discussion of the Fall, Imprisonment, Abduction, mentions of torture, BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Post-Apocalypse, Nope'geddeon, Post-Canon, Time Manipulation, Wing Injury, hurt!Aziraphale, Hurt!Crowley, discussions of Pre-Canon, Crowley didn't fall - he was pushed, Crowley Was Not Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Happy Ending, Aziraphale's True Form (Good Omens), lucifer is reasonable, aziraphale is not himself today, smite-y aziraphale, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), lucifer is not luci (tv) but heavily influenced by him, possible self-harm, unintentional suicidal actions, Burns, Crowley's True Form (Good Omens), Other Additional Tags to Be Added Series: Part 3 of Nanowrimo 2019 Summary:

Aziraphale worked very hard at being soft. He's been working very hard for more than 6000 years to be soft, and one demon is trying his patience on the matter, leading him on a smiting spree in hell.

 aka - exploring my personal headcanon's of our fav duo's pasts, set sometime after the series ends. Tags will be expanded reflecting each new chapter to minimize spoilers. i'm not very nice to either of of our beloveds in this, but it all works out in the end.